Excerpt from Lake with No Name by Diane Wei Liang, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

There was always great sadness when my parents recalled how the Cultural Revolution had destroyed the lives of many of their friends and colleagues. They wondered about their own lives and how it might have been if the Cultural Revolution had not happened. So many what-ifs came to mind.

At last summer came to Nanchuan, and the day of our departure. A number of my parents' friends, including Xiao Li, came to help.

We chose to leave in the early morning so that we could avoid the time when the sun was brutally hot. In fact, we left so early that there was still fog lingering around the mountaintops. Two strong young men pushed wooden carts loaded with our belongings, while five other people carried smaller pieces of luggage. My mother carried Xiao Jie in her arms, while Baba had a carton of crockery in one hand and me in the other. I had to leave my beloved basket behind since there would not be any use for it in Beijing.

As we moved slowly down the mountain, we could hear the sound of the river in the valley. Looking around, there was endless green for as far as the eye could see. Wildflowers peeked out here and there. As we walked down, the labor camp where we had lived for the past three years faded from view. Soon, we could see the road at the bottom of the mountain. We had walked the trail for the last time.

After the luggage had been loaded on top of the bus, we waved good-bye to those who had helped. The bus started to move. I turned around and looked out from the back window...and I saw a little girl walking down the mountain trail with a tiny basket on her back, alone, surrounded by endless burning-red azaleas.

Copyright © 2003 by Wei Liang